


Rooks and Red Roses

by RandomHomoDoodles



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Feelings Realization, Fire, First Dates, First Kiss, Fix-It, Gift Giving, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Language of Flowers, M/M, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Tags May Change, Theft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomHomoDoodles/pseuds/RandomHomoDoodles
Summary: The final act has begun and Jacob doesn't intend to give Maxwell the death that he seemed to want. Instead, rescuing him from the fire and dragging him back to the train.Evie is expectedly unhappy with this decision.Watch as these two chaotic gang leaders resolve their plight and grow close once again, as well as deal with their thoughts of each other quietly. Jacobs near loss of his partner making him realize just how much he'd hate to lose him. Meanwhile, Maxwell is as smitten as ever.
Relationships: Jacob Frye/Maxwell Roth
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	1. And so it Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my second fanfiction and I decided to make it a fix it for these two chaotic souls. They deserved a lot more time together, and a happier ending than what cannon gave them.
> 
> Fair warning, Max gets pistol-whipped but it's only so that Jacob can get him out of there.
> 
> Second fair warning that this may be a BIT slow to update ( just got a new job ) but hopefully not too much!
> 
> And THIRD fair warning-
> 
> There MIGHT be smut in later chapters. LMK if you'd like that I've never really written it but I can try! I do have a plan if people want it.
> 
> The first chapter is a bit short, I'm sorry. ;-;

Maxwells POV:

The sweltering heat of the Alhambra surrounded him, the great leader of the blighters as he stood at center stage. Screams of the poor fools who had decided to attend this magnificent final act fleeing the scene of his beautiful mass massacre, watching as the fire consumed props and decor. Maxwell tearing the mask from his face and tossing it into the nearby puddles of fuel, rippling with newly set flames. The musty scent of newly spent gunpowder and oil filling his senses. The sound of a revolver being fired over the sound of roaring hellfire. Maxwell turning on his heel to see an angry young assassin stalking towards the stage. The blaze around them only matched by the fury in his dear Jacob's eyes.

"My dear, what a coincidence!" He chuckled sarcastically.

He knew this was likely going to be his last few moments alive. he had come to terms with this fact, the idea of everything finally being at rest by the hand of the man he loves sending a slight thrill down his spine. Its all over, this is it. And yet when the gun was raised and the bullet ripped through the air beside him, landing in the skull of the Blighter next to him before she fell to the ground. His heart skipping as the sound abused his eardrum before he could recover he found the same on the other side of him, holding his head in his hands as he staggered backward. Only looking up as he nearly tripped backward, A hand at his Cravat choking him slightly as he was pulled back onto the stage, only for his confusion to be cut short by a sharp pain in his right temple and met with darkness.

_________

Jacob's POV:

Jacob caught Maxwell mid-fall after striking him with the butt of his gun, effectively incapacitating him before lifting and tossing the limp body of his once partner over his shoulder to hold him easier. Looking around the firey ruins of the Blighter's life work. Shaking the feeling of guilt for the favor of getting the hell out of the Alhambra. He could sulk later. Pulled from his thoughts as a ceiling beam fell beside him, almost dropping Maxwell in the process, he leaped from the stage to avoid another as he ran with flames licking at his heels to the main lobby that leads to the front entrance, only for the archway to collapse before him, radiating a blistering heat. Causing him to flinch and step back. and eye one of the middle pillars of the raised seats, realizing some of the upper floors hadn't fully caught fire just yet, he had his chance, and he took it. Shooting a grapple to the highest tier and praying the rope would support both of them. Luckily it did, although quite a bit slower than he had hoped, it was working nonetheless, and he intended to make the most of it, holding the man around the waist tightly to keep from dropping him as they steadily made their way up the wall, and eventually over the edge, tossing the blighter over the railing and onto the platform before following and picking him back up. Explosions sounding behind him as he coughed through the smog, and tried his best to navigate through tables and decorations, the sweat in his brow making its way into his eyes and obscuring his vision as he found the stairwell and rushed up the only path he could use, final flight to the last remaining exit, floors below.  
After only a moment's hesitation and some readjusting of Maxwell's body, so he could support his head, he braced himself and jumped bending his knees as he landed yet still at an odd angle, his ankle rolling and causing him to drop Maxwell, who ended up sprawled in front of him. The inferno behind him catching up to his panicked thoughts as he staggered to his feet and grabbed his hat that had fallen off in the clatter. Hoisting the Blighter back into his arms and running out of the building despite the searing pain, it was nothing he couldn’t handle, the adrenaline helping to ease the pain as he ran into the night, not taking the time to look back as he ran through the streets towards the distant, and familiar sound of the train.

____________________

Evie’s POV:

The sound of the train lurching along its set tracks filled the silence of the living cart. She sat in the off blue armchair, staring at the nearby furnace in deep thought. Not noticing Henry joining her for a moment to ask how she was holding up. Jacob had been frantic when he had left earlier that evening. Frantic to buy from the trains merchant and head back out, refusing to disclose any more information before leaving in a hurry. Usually, Evie wouldn't be bothered by Jacon being gone for days, although something about this felt off, something was wrong. More than usual, she could tell it was affecting her brother deeply, and even if she didn't do it often she was worried about her brother. 

The last thing he said before he disappeared was that he would be back, his eyes still flashed in her mind as she thought back to it. And since then she's been waiting for him to return.  
Just as she was about to wave the man off, her twin burst through the train cart door with an unconscious man in his arms, about his size if not a bit taller by the looks of it. Not giving anyone the time to ask who the man was or what was happening Jacob was barking out orders for Henry to get bandages and a clean cloth, laying the oddly familiar-looking stranger down onto the empty bed, noting that he used a certain tenderness that she had yet to see him use until now.  
She stood from where she was, a surge of emotions fighting in her mind, relief, confusion, anger, concern.  
Watching as her brother checked a bleeding wound on the man's head, just above a very identifiable scar, the man murmured about amongst the rooks, rumors, and speculation as to his motives and templar involvement. Her world seemed to stop for a moment, collapsing until there was nothing but her, her brother, and Maxwell Roth, leader of the blighters, a target. She was left speechless for a moment. Confusion and betrayal flooding any gladness she had of her brother's return. Grabbing Jacob by the shoulder in a death grip and spinning him around to face her 

"Jacob Frye. Explain to me how and why on earth you would bring that man onto this train." Her voice was dripping with venom, she couldn't believe the scenario placed before her. Pointing to the center of his chest in a jab as she advanced to shout at her foolish sibling. Turning away to grab and pull at her hair angrily.

"Of all the reckless, irresponsible endeavors-" She could feel her face heating with rage until Henry returned to give Jacob the items he had asked for which Jacob took after giving a quick thanks, shaking himself from his shocked state of mind at his sisters' reaction. Seeming to opt to ignore her for now as he leaned back over the Blighter to try and tend to his wounds. The tense set of his shoulders telling of the fact he knew there were more words to be exchanged. "Jacob" she snapped.

"Give me a moment." He hissed back, "Henry hold the pad down while I tie it" The wound was far from fatal, she doubted it was little more than a cut, and yet Jacob was fretting over him as if he'd die if not treated. Henry, helpful as ever stepped forward to try and help, only to be stopped by Evie placing a hand on his chest. 

"Don't." She said firmly.

Jacob whirled around angrily a frustrated "Goddamnit Evie." being spoken through clenched teeth. She gave no signs of caring for his distraught tone, 

"You're going to explain yourself. Now." She asserted. Leaving Jacob to try to tie the wound himself, not as well as it would have been with Henry's help but it held the pad in place well enough. Finally standing to face his sister on his own accord.  
Evie felt her fury bubble up, "Of all the people to bring here, not an ally, someone we can trust, you bring a Templar?" 

Jacob was quick to say "He isn't, a Templar." Which she was fast to ignore.

"A Templar, a target, leader of the Blighters. Jacob. He is dangerous."

Jacob let out a dry laugh at that, coldly spitting "You say that as if we aren't." back at her.

She nearly lost her temper at that. "We, are helping the people of London by purging the evils that lie here, an evil that he plays a rather big part in if you will recall.”

"Enough Evie!" Jacob shouted, finally losing his temper with her accusations and insinuation.

Before anyone could say anything else there was a flash of movement in the corner of her eye, everyone looking towards the source of the confusion, only to find Maxwell Roth, finally awake, holding Jacobs gun aimed directly at Evie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxwell is awake, Evie is still pissed. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYY I'm so sorry this took so long to come out!! I hope it was worth the wait- And I'm really hoping the next chapter won't take so long.
> 
> Tell me in the comments if you enjoyed or whos POV should be next! (I'm thinking Jacob or Max again-)
> 
> Anyways! The next chapter should be a bit longer since some of the shenanigans should be starting soon!

Maxwell had awoken just a minute earlier, head throbbing and hearing the faint voice of a woman fading into his diluted thoughts. Keeping his eyes closed for the time being. While it hadn't been often he had been in a similar situation before believing it or not. Best to get his bearings before making his awareness known. He wasn't sure where he was. Attempting to calm his breathing and heart rate as he fought to remember how he came to be in this unknown location, trying to take in his surroundings with his other senses. Pretending to still be out as he slowly regained consciousness. His fingers discreetly clutching at the fabric below him, the unmistakable growl of a train engine shaking his surroundings and worsening his headache. Unable to make out the words at first but listening anyways, trying to gather some kind of context as to what was happening around him.

"We, are helping the people of London by purging the evils that lie here, an evil that he plays a rather big part in if you will recall.” A feminine voice seemed to threaten.

Who was that? He'd never heard the voice before, he assumed the "he" that the woman was referring to was Maxwell himself although, given, he couldn't see if there was any other candidate.  
The sound that sprung him into action was all too familiar, a shout of-

"Enough Evie!"

Sending him into much more of a panic than before, caution tossed to the wind as he grasped towards the sound of the young man's voice, zeroing in on the holster at Jacob's waist before scrambling back against the wall of the train, still on the bed, newly obtained weapon in hand, aimed at the unknown woman who also reached for her revolver. Her movement wavering slightly when he determinedly placed his finger on the trigger. His vision obscured just a moment later by none other than Jacob Frye, who had stepped between the two.  
Maxwell immediately faltered, expression turning confused and slightly soft before another jolt of pain flared up in his temple, causing him to flinch harshly, hissing as he went to grab his head, dropping the gun in the process.

"Shit!" He didn't have time to recover before he heard the clatter of the weapon hitting the floor and being kicked away. Someone who turned out to be Jacob pinning him to the bed, his wrists held firmly at either side of his head to keep him still despite his best efforts to break free. His head still spinning with adrenaline and fear he would never admit to out loud. His name echoing in his ears, hardly syncing with Jacob's lips as he tried to call him out of his haze, keeping him restrained until he had no fight left to continue his trashing, vision blurred and hearing hardly escaping the constant ringing until it was a distant disturbance.  
Finally focusing enough to make out a concerned-looking Jacob Frye, his words finally seeming to break through the thick fog that had wrapped itself around his skull.

"Maxwell!"

Roth winced at the sudden noise, chest still heaving from his efforts but everything seeming to calm down as the room fell rather quiet.

"Just breathe for a second alright? If I was going to kill you I would have left you back there so just.." Jacob took a pause, looking slightly conflicted. "Calm down for a minute alright? I'm going to let you go but you have to promise me you won't try anything stupid again, alright?" He offered, he sounded like he was trying to be soothing but his tone betrayed his frustration.

Maxwell mulled over what had been said, the chance he'd been given, and after a few moments, he nodded slowly. Watching as Jacob slowly removed himself from the thespian and stepped away, picking up his gun and placing it back at his hip when the unknown woman grabbed him by the wrist and stated harshly.

"We need to talk." as she tossed a nasty glare at Maxwell then continued "In private. Henry-!"

A young man he hadn't noticed before now quickly stood at attention, looking startled by his sudden inclusion. 

"Yes, Evie?"

ah, so that was her name. He remembered hearing it a bit earlier but he hadn't recalled until now.

"Watch him." She jerked her head in Maxwell's direction, then handed him her gun. "If he tries anything. Kill him." There was no room for debate, that much was clear. 

Max decidedly kept his mouth shut as Evie dragged Jacob out of the car and onto the platform just outside, to which a muffled screaming match ensued that he still somehow couldn't understand through the sound of the train on its tracks as he sat up, holding his head in a hand as if that would help somehow.  
The man, apparently named Henry seemed nice enough, he was on guard and clearly uncomfortable, which under other circumstances he might apologize for, but he didn't know what the hell was happening either. It was just then that Maxwell remembered the Alhambra, groaning at the realization that he now didn't have anywhere to go back to. He had fully been expecting to never wake up again, he supposed he hadn't thought through the possibility that he wouldn't be dead by now. Henry Raising a brow at his actions, although didn't go for his gun. Not as brash as Evie. Duly noted.

"Are you alright?" Henry also seemed oddly concerned. "Look, I know its none of my business-"

It was Maxwell's turn to raise a brow as he hummed his acknowledgment.

Henry stopped for a moment as if to be sure he wasn't overstepping. "I know who you are, but, I also know that Jacob wouldn't have dragged you out of wherever you came from if he didn't have a reason to."

Roth huffed at that, "If you want to know that reason I suggest you ask him because I haven't the slightest clue." He admitted sourly, looking at his upturned hands in his lap.

Henry seemed to sigh at that, "Either way, he seems to care, I've seen him talk about you, and before he left for you this evening-" He hesitated as if there was something he knew should probably be kept secret, but spilled anyways. "He seemed really upset. More than I've ever seen him before. Whatever you did, it shook him."

Within the short period he's been conscious, he hadn't thought about that. How Jacob had been effected even though he knew he probably should have. His eyes found the floor as he thought this fact over. In all honesty, he had assumed Jacob would have been happy to have him gone. After the incident at the factory, the way Jacob had look at him with such genuine shock, and disgust that he would let it happen. Max supposed he shouldn't have gone so far when all was said and done.

"You should talk to him about it when you get the chance." Henry added, "Like I said he had a reason to bring you back here, he'd have left you there otherwise."

Maxwell made a bit of a face at that. He wasn't exactly a man that talked about feelings much, especially when it came to those he cared about. He'd been pretty open with his flirtatious jests before everything happened don't get him wrong, it was rather obvious at least to him (and a few more observant of his gang) that he found Jacob very much attractive. He was more than comfortable with flirting and hell, even more, had he been given the opportunity and with Jacob's permission of course. But actually sitting down to talk about it was a whole other story in Roth's book.

"I-" 

As Max was about to speak, the door to the train car opened again. Jacob following Evie back inside looking a bit nervous as she crossed her arms, she definitely seemed a bit calmer than before although still unhappy with the situation, seemingly sizing Maxwell up as she chose her words.

"My brother and I have come to an agreement. If I allow you to stay, there are going to be rules that I expect you to follow. If not, you're out. That is if I don't decide to kill you first."

Roth refrained from rolling his eyes at who was revealed to actually be Jacob's sister.

"One, Jacob." She started suddenly, causing the man to jump slightly, she seems to have a way of getting that reaction from people.

She continued quickly "You have full responsibility. If he does something stupid or gets someone hurt it's on your head." Jacob simply nodded, not looking all that thrilled but agreeing anyways. "You are not to take your eyes off of him under any circumstances, and he has to pull his own weight. Help out, be useful. He can start out by going with you to pick up supplies for our black market friend in the back car tomorrow morning." She finally turned her gaze to Maxwell "Is that clear?"

Maxwell resisted the urge to groan. "Crystal."

He may have just let her kill him at that point if he hadn't realized that for some unknown reason, Jacob seemed to want him alive.

this was going to be a lot more trouble he had planned on getting himself into.


	3. "Shopping" Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is forced by Evie to drag Maxwell through the streets of London to retrieve a cart for their black market friend. The Blighters and Starrick think Maxwell is dead and the twins, for now, intend to keep it that way.
> 
> What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH IM SORRY FOR ALL THE MAXWELL POV'S
> 
> IVE READ THE COMMENTS
> 
> JACOB SHALL GET HIS TURN!
> 
> Also !!!! trigger warning for gun violence and death !!!! (Of various unnamed blighters don't worry)
> 
> ( Okay and maybe an unfortunate horse or two I'm sorry )

Maxwell POV:

Maxwell had been awake by the time the train pulled into Whitechapel. Unable to sleep after the so-called conversation he and Jacob had just a few hours earlier. 

Meanwhile Jacob, on the chair at the other side of the admittedly cozy train car, was out like a light, arms crossed, tophat having since fallen off his head and onto the floor due to his constant shifting to try and get comfortable. Snoring with a bit of drool on his chin. Maxwell thought it was nothing short of adorable. Not to mention how fantastic it would be to tease him on it later.  
Before he could debate the best way to wake the assassin, the choice was made for him by the screeching of the train coming to a halt in the station and the shouting of the young man's sister to get moving. Jacob was up and (Mostly) aware in seconds as his sibling marched through the door holding what looked to be a ragged jacket.

"...What are you doing with my old coat?" Were the first words out of Jacob's mouth.

Evie gave him a look as if it were obvious, Jacob only looked more confused.  
She rolled her eyes and explained that-

"Henry had his spies do a bit of research, Starrick and the Blighters both think he" She emphasized the word by nodding in Maxwell's direction "Is dead. Until I figure out whether or not that's a good thing, I intend to keep them oblivious." Evie tossed the worn jacket at Max, he managed to catch it before it hit him in the face.

"And you intend to accomplish this... With one of my coats.."

"Anything to cover his hair face and jacket." 

That's when Maxwell chimed in "What's that supposed to mean?" only half-joking but it appears that the other Frye twin was nowhere near as aware of his attempted mood lightening humor as Jacob. After a glance between the two, it was clear the joke of the mock offense hadn't landed, so he shut his trap and shrugged the coat onto his shoulders, pulling up the hood and taking a moment in his head to think over the strange scenario. It was odd... Maxwell didn't often wear another man's jacket, he had offered his own to past lovers or men that interested him. He vaguely recalled a drunken evening rushing back to the Alhambra in the rain with Jacob when he'd given his overcoat to the young man. Of course, he could be a gentleman when he tried after all.

"Shall we be off then?" Maxwell inquired after breaking free of his thoughts.

Jacob had been staring, only for a moment, but he had been, whether it be in confusion or drowsiness Roth couldn't quite tell.

"Yes of course.." The sleepy assassin finally said, stretching which resulted in a few popping sounds, no doubt sleeping on that chair was uncomfortable, but Jacob still didn't complain as he stepped over to the door of the car with the slightest limp that somehow only Roth seemed to notice, Maxwell following and hopping out first, holding out a hand to his personal favorite of the twins, Jacob rolled his eyes and gave a slight glare in response, although still accepted the help when Maxwell made a pointed look at his injured foot, then back to his eyes. The two men found themselves standing on the platform as the train slowly began to move once again heading off to the next station they were meant to meet it at.

Maxwell sighed a frosty breath, watching it bellow out in dull cloud as he turned around. A tense silence seemed to settle around the two.  
Jacob hardly trusted him in such an open environment and he was all too aware of that fact. Neither speaking as they set their pace towards the short flight of stairs that led to the street above. Roth winced slightly at the gray morning light reflected off the puddles in the street and back into his face.  
Holding a hand up to block it from his eyes. Said hand was quickly grabbed and tugged swiftly to the right and around a nearby pillar of the station. Jacob released his wrist and peered back where they had come from.

"Blighters, quite a few of them." Jacob simply said, not taking his eyes off a man in a familiar shade of red.

While Maxwell realized he could go, call out for his men and women and they'd be there in a moment's notice, yet, for some reason that evaded him, he didn't.

Well, actually he supposed it was because he felt he had betrayed the poor man's trust enough.

Either way, he decided to stay where he was until prompted to move, up the walkway, and more importantly facing the opposite direction from his former gang as they continued on their way. And with the quiet came curiosity, Maxwell observing his surroundings to try and get some small form of entertainment. After passing a few small businesses and an apothecary, he finally gave up on searching. Deciding to start a conversation himself.  
"So she said we were just picking up a cart and taking it to the next station?"

Jacob nodded. "Yes."

Maxwell huffed at the simple answer and resisted the urge to call the errand boring.

"Don't worry, most of these runs are less than easy thanks to a certain gang," Jacob added, the slight jab shared a hint of his old lightheartedness.

Roth gave an amused hum at that, a slight smile forming as the atmosphere seemed to ease up, even if it wasn't much, it was something he could work with after their conversation before Jacob had left to the next cart and came back drunk to pass out in the same chair he awoke in.

~~~~~Around 7 hours ago~~~~~

Maxwell's POV:

He watched the Frye sister stalk out of the train car with Henry at her heels. Maxwell sighed and slouched in his spot on the bed, head in his hands as he attempted to sort this mess out, Henry's words still thudding through his skull, to talk to him. The problem was he wasn't sure how to start. Turns out he didnt have to, he felt eyes on him, making him instinctively looking up at his old partner in crime who, now that everything had calmed down looked, for lack of a better word- Pissed.

Roth looked away from the searing glare he was met with. One major question still wrecking his brain that the former Templar couldn't help but ask.

"Why?"

"Excuse me?" Jacob responded almost immediately.

Maxwell finally met the assassin's gaze. "Why didnt you let me die."

It sounded more like a statement somehow despite being a genuine question. The query appearing to baffle Jacob as his expression went from shock to guarded broiling anger.

"Why would I have?" was his response.

Now it was Maxwell's turn to be confused by the back and forth questionnaire.

"As hard as you hit my head I can still remember that I tried to blow up a factory of urchins, you seemed pretty damn upset about that." Shit, he hadn't meant to be so harsh, this wasn't off to a great start.

"You made a mistake, trust me I've likely made much worse," Jacob stated dryly.

"Burned my theatre down with everyone including you inside."

That just seemed to set off Jacob's frustration even more.

"Yes! what you did was stupid, very, very fucking stupid but- Do you honestly think after everything we've been through-?" He scoffed and began pacing around the small room. "That because of a few mistakes that I'd- That I would even be able to bring myself to-!?" He said, clearly distraught as he whirled around on his heel, stopping in his tracks likely because of Maxwell's shocked expression, before letting out an aggravated grunt, storming out of the car with a scowl.

Only coming back around an hour later, 

"what are you-?" Maxwell's question cut short with the explanation of

"Evie said I can't leave you alone" He set down the half-empty bottle on the floor before he wordlessly collapsed into the armchair across from Maxwell and fell asleep.

Maxwell couldn't sleep after that.

~~~Present~~~

Maxwells's POV (Again):

The odd pair continued along the road after the rather sharp turn, seeing two coachmen hardly make it by without swerving onto the sidewalk, both men decidedly quickened their pace to avoid any more injuries.

"It shouldn't be too far from here, Evie told me it would be over there somewhere," He said, motioning ahead of them to a large building which bore a sign that said 'Whitechapel Goose Ale' in long white letters.

Maxwell stayed quiet for the time being, simply nodding when his silence earned him a slightly confused glance from his young friend... Yes, friend.  
Of course.

His thoughts decided to drift elsewhere as they made their way towards the brewery, to before all of this happened. The few moments that he recalled where he could sense a hint of possibility, when Jacobs gaze would linger on him for just a moment too long to be friendly, or when they shared a drink in his study, he always appreciated those evenings, always went to sleep restless and sometimes not at all, tangling with the idea that he might have a chance.

Well, if he had one, he certainly didn't anymore, at least not for a long while anyway.

Was that why he had been so compliant? Grasping at straws for a second chance as if he even had one to begin with. He felt a wave of shame, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long while. The increasingly unfamiliar sour gut feeling, weight settling on his shoulders that the likelihood of him getting a drunken snog, let alone any resemblance of a friendship, Gods, even a fraction of what they had before after what he'd done was slim to none. Yet some illogical part of him was still obscenely curious, and as much as he disliked to admit it to himself. Remorseful.  
He regretted what he'd done and intended to prove that one way or another.

Just as he was swearing to himself to do so he was tapped on the arm to catch his attention as Jacob pointed towards a nearby cart on a slope that had The Creed's symbol carved into the wood. Marked for them, horses waiting patiently in their places as they both jogged across the road to reach it. Maxwell taking a moment to follow Jacob around back apparently to check over what all they had. He felt she should say something at that point. Henry had been right, what happened did need to be talked about.

Without Jacob running off again.

~~~~

Jacob's POV:

"Looks like everything's here-" Jacob stated, hopping off the back of the carriage, obviously not expecting to be met with a determined-looking Maxwell Roth staring pointedly back at him. "...Is there a problem?" He felt an uncomfortable chill creep along his shoulders as his old partner took a step forward, forcing Jacob to take a step back, repeating this until his back was (Quite literally) against a brick wall, cornering him between it and the coach.  
Heat rose to his face in both embarrassment and frustration, he sneered at the older man, a wave of anger beginning to boil in his stomach. Placing a hand on Roth's chest to shove him away, but before he did-

"Jacob. We need to talk about that happened." Maxwell tried. It didn't help to quell the growing fury.

"No. Roth, not now." he retorted, pushing him aside with a surprising amount of restraint given he hadn't knocked Maxwell off his feet. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought over how to dissuade him from the topic, deciding to be direct if not harsh "I said I wouldn't kill you over your mistakes. That doesn't mean I've forgiven you for them." He stated, turning back to give him a darkening look "Don't make me regret that decision."

Maxwell looked almost hurt for a moment, letting out another sigh as he looked away. "Alright."

Jacob had risked a small bit of familiarity with his earlier jest. While a part of him missed it. The rest of him knew that he had to keep his distance.

Then all at once, the carriage set off without them, a blighter at the helm waving a cocky goodbye as he sped off with their supplies down the street.  
Jacob put his head in his hands, "Oh for FUCKS sake-"

"Hm... Perhaps we should have waited until we were on the cart-"

Jacob stared daggers at him, stating an aggravated "You think?" before practically dragging him out of the ally to the nearest carriage, tossing the driver off his seat and hopping on, pulling Maxwell up mindlessly as he cracked the whip, horses going into a sprint with the sudden shock as Jacob tugged the reigns to make the sharp turn and follow their coach. Maxwell nearly flying off the side as the wheels slid abruptly against slick cobblestone, having to grab at the seat they shared so he didn't, and just after, holding onto his head with a pained groan. Jacob paid no mind at the moment, shouting at the horses to go faster despite knowing they couldn't understand him, as well as absentmindedly telling Maxwell to hold on as he began to catch up, Maneuvering the cart beside the one with their supplies- Handing the reigns as well as his hat to Maxwell as he stood up "Keep us next to him-"

"What on earth are you- JACOB!?"

Before Maxwell even got to finish his question Jacob leaped over to the other carriage, landing unsteadily on his sprained ankle and hissing as he regained his balance. Quickly refocusing to grab the blighter, dragging him out of the driver's seat by the roots of his hair, the man swinging wildly behind him until he successfully connected a fist with Jacobs jaw, causing him to stagger backward for a moment before throwing his apparent punch that ended up with his hidden blade buried in the base of the blighter's throat, hearing a low gurgle as crimson foamed slightly at his lips, Jacob simply tossed the increasingly limp body off the side and hopped onto the wide seat at the front, grabbing the reigns and steadying the swerving cart, holding out a hand to his right, Shouting over the gap between himself and Maxwell to jump- Who after hearing shouting and the daunting sound of gunfire behind them, did as told. Grabbing Jacob's hand to catch himself before taking his seat and handing Jacob his hat back. Jacob placing it back where it was supposed to be and zeroing in on the road. Taking a risk, he fiddled with his holster and pulled out his gun, holding out his pistol to Maxwell, repeating his earlier statement of "Don't make me regret this-" Before quickly instructing urgently " Just keep them off of us- Shoot the damn horses if you have to just keep them back-!" 

\------------------

Maxwell's POV (Sorry IDK how I can excitingly describe Jacob driving):

He nodded, swiftly snatching the gun and looking back at the three carts of his men that had gathered behind them, pulling his hood up further as he turned around in his seat, aiming as best he could with Jacob almost ramming into every other carriage on the road. Dispatching the driver of the closest, then following up with the woman that had been accompanying him, resulting in the cart crashing into the one beside it. Attempting the last with failing shots. Each pull of the trigger sending a sharp pain through his head and a ringing in his ears he did his best to disregard the pain as the remaining cart returned fire. Vaguely hearing Jacob shout at him to hurry up as a bullet grazed his right arm, tearing through the fabric of Jacob's old coat. He turned to look the wench in the eyes as he aimed to fire, taking a guilty pleasure in seeing her shock before she had a bullet in her chest, falling off the cart, and being run over by the back wheels with a loud crunch.

He took a deep breath, as things seemed to calm down. The horses slowing to a steady trot once Jacob realized they were in the clear.  
Maxwell couldn't help but chuckle slightly in delirious relief after a few long minutes of silence had passed.

"What are you laughing about?" Jacob asked, confused.

"Why my dear.." He said, still holding his bleeding arm tightly, looking more alive than Jacob had likely seen him for quite a while.  
"You never can disappoint me when it comes to excitement now do you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DID IT!!!! I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS AND FOLLOW ME ON INSTA (@randomhomodoodles) FOR UPDATES ILYSM!!!!!!!!!!


	4. The Blaze He Created.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive back at the train where Jacob has some conflicting emotions.
> 
> And Maxwell sews-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear GODS THIS TOOK ME FOREVER--
> 
> I am SO sorry it took me so long there has been so much going on, I'm trying to update as best I can!
> 
> As for this chapter I tried to hit more of the emotional confusion Jacob is still battling with through fond memories and the far more bitter truths he's facing which may seem odd, and I know that, so I figured I'd address the emotional -as I describe it- whiplash Jacob is experiencing that may come off as confusing- Just saying now that it's meant to be. Both for Jacob, and the reader, so that it draws you more into the story and causes you to think a bit more.
> 
> Thank you so much for being here! and remember that Comments are always welcome and appreciated! Thank you all for the support.

Jacobs POV:

Jacob was still high off the adrenaline by the time they pulled into the next station, the two men still laughing like drunken idiots as Jacob pulled on the reigns for them to come to a slow stop beside the temporarily stationed train. Hopping off first to help Maxwell down onto the platform this time, in a reversal of the events earlier. Afterward walking the rest of the way to the open door of the back cart, letting their black market salesman know his supplies had arrived after hoisting himself up and ordering a few rooks to help out with unloading the contents of the cart onto the cab before leading his old friend to the front car once again. Not that he needed to, but his mind was elsewhere. Set in their old fond memories that seemed to be resurfacing after the use of that old phrase Maxwell always used to say especially to him. The words 'My dear' seeming to set his nerves on fire in an oddly pleasant way at the moment. The way it had before the incident when he had been getting more than used to it and slowly enjoying the endearment. As he walked through the carts, nodding at rooks as he passed, it didn't take long for that feeling to fade into the bitterness of pleasant memories burned in blaze Roth created.

"Shit.." Jacob was snapped out of his thoughts, Maxwell muttering the curse as he held up his arm to take a look at the arm of the coat he had borrowed that was now both ripped and stained partially crimson where he had been grazed by the blighter's bullet.

Jacob sighed slightly at the sight of the old garment in such a state "Don't worry about it I have plenty of them, although we should probably take a look at that arm." Jacob's expression now neutral as they finally came through the door to the living cart. Gesturing once again to a nearby rook, requesting some water, towels, and bandages as he ushered the still hooded Maxwell further into the room out of sight, moving him to the bed, before stepping over to the small furnace so he could light a fire in hopes of warming up the cabin at least little bit from the biting chill that had settled outside, looking around for some tender to burn, eventually finding himself face to face with Maxwells photo on the target board. As angry as he was with the man the sight of his face on the board made something in his stomach churn unpleasantly. And so, he tore the photo down, the sudden noise capturing Maxwell's silent attention as Jacob lit the parchment and tossed it into the furnace to catch the dried wood and sticks he had placed moments ago ablaze.  
Watching solemnly as the photo slowly darkened and singed at the edges, eventually consuming the man's face staring back at him with a dull crackle as he shut the glass casing.

It didn't take long for Maxwell to give some quiet appreciation that Jacob didn't take much notice to at first, still making sure the fire was properly lit as Roth began pulling off the old coat along with stripping off his other upper layers until Jacob heard the clothes fall to the floor in a small crumpled heap, Maxwell still trying to get to the wound on his upper arm.  
It snapped Jacob out of his small trance of being reminded all too much of the Alhambra just a few nights ago as the flames flickered in their confined space, he looked over to the man he once felt so comforted by the presence of to see him bare, holding a bloody gloved hand over the wound to stop the bleeding as best he could at the moment, it was a bit odd he left them on, but they seemed to be helping to soak up excess blood so Jacob said nothing. The blighter's arm crossed over a strong chest, littered with scars that caught the light coming from the furnace. A deep chuckle escaping the thespian's throat as he looked up to meet Jacob's eyes with that firey green, burning nearly bright as ever, a slight dullness creeping into those emerald irises.

"Another for the collection eh?" Maxwell said, gesturing to his arm with a nod Jacob simply swallowing and humming his acknowledgment. His wandering thoughts only distracted by a knock at the door that he leaped to answer before the rook entered of his own accord.

Thankfully, Jacob was fast enough and stopped the young man at the door, giving him an appreciative look as he took the supplies and sent him on his way. Turning back to his old partner with a deep sigh, shaking his head of the heat that had risen there, closing the door with his foot, and making his way to sit beside him, setting the supplies on the duvet beside him and taking a better look at Roth's arm, holding it still and prodding slightly at the torn flesh to better see the extent, Maxwell tensing with a grimace, grabbing Jacobs wrist with a firm hand, on the impulse of having a wound being jabbed at. They locked eyes again, and Jacob moved to be a bit gentler, only for Maxwell's grip to loosen as he muttered an apology, which had admittedly caught the rook leader by surprise. He simply stared for a moment, then broke the gaze, pulling off his glove before pausing yet again, looking between Roth and his gauntlet. He may have saved him but he wasn't going to trust him that much just yet. Roth seemed to understand, however, looking to the small fireplace as Jacob took a clean rag and doused it in the small bowl, squeezing out the excess and dabbing it onto the wound carefully to clean up the blood that had dried around the gash as best he could before taking the bandages and meticulously wrapping the bicep up tightly to keep the pressure on the laceration. His bare hand gently running over the cloth, convincing himself it was only to make sure it wouldn't come off. But he was taken aback, based on Maxwell's appearance in his usual attire one may not expect just how physically powerful the man before him was. Roth was irrefutably a force of nature all on his own. Charming, he shook his head from the thought once again that night. And very dangerous.

"Thanks." The former Blighter said, slightly melancholic as he pulled his arm away almost reluctantly, then went to his soiled button-up and pulled it over his shoulders, apparently sensing Jacob's tenseness.

"Do you happen to have a needle and thread somewhere on this train?" Maxwell tried, an awkward-looking smile forming on the man's lips, quirking his mustache slightly as Jacob noted fiddling with his gloved hands as if he needed a distraction. To which Jacob stood up, a bit confused as he started looking around.

"I think so... Why?" Jacob inquired, halting his search with a suspicious gaze tossed Maxwell's way.

Maxwell kneeled to pick up Jacob's coat and stick his fingers through the hole in the arm, wiggling them to show him it, then explained. "I figured I should fix this."

"You know how to sew?" 

Maxwell laughed, seemingly at the notion it was assumed he couldn't. "Jacob my dear! You forget I'm in the business of the theatre! I've sewed and stitched up more costumes than anyone else in London I'd wager" He looked rather proud of himself, his expression sinking slightly, clearly recalling that the Alhambra was no more and that that life was now a mere memory. So, Jacob asked another question to change the subject to fonder times of the old theatre.

"I figured you'd have someone else do that-"

"Oh Gods no, the costumes have to be sewn properly, which is something I don't trust anyone but myself with."

Jacob chuckled slightly at the image of Maxwell frantically stitching up a torn outfit before a production.

"Something funny?" Maxwell seemed a bit confused but was met by Jacob placing a needle in his palm with a small fond smile that he failed to hold back.

"No, of course not." He said, still quelling the odd joy of familiarity that still left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, his own emotions giving him an unpleasant sensation similar to whiplash. His thoughts of the man ever-changing in conflicting waves. He could use something to wash that feeling down, offhandedly offering "Do you want a drink?"

"That sounds perfect dear, thank you," Maxwell said mimicking the familiar smile, as he threaded the needle and tied a knot to keep it attached. Jacob, although not exactly trusting him alone for now, left the car to quickly snatch a bottle of whiskey and some glasses. Coming back only a few moments later to find Maxwell exactly where he had left him, seemingly frustrated with tying the other end of the thread. Eventually, and finally, taking off his gloves to do so stubbornly, he didn't seem too pleased about it, but he put them back on once the knot was tied with a small triumphant sound. Holding the hole open from beneath the fabric with a hand before beginning to stitch the coat up as Jacob set down the bottle on the floor by the fireplace along with the glasses he'd collected, sitting beside them and closer to the fire. Pulling off his coat, turning to look at Maxwell and catching him appearing to have been staring for a moment. Jacob ignored the silent interaction, passing it off as Maxwell staring at the fire, of course, he was. Jacob sighed and gestured to the spot beside him "Care to join me?" he asked pulling off the cap and pouring himself a rather hefty amount of the amber liquid, only to down it as Maxwell took his offer and moved to sit next to him, thanking him once again when Jacob poured him a glass. They didn't toast, there wasn't much to toast to, Maxwell instead swirling the whiskey in his cup, staring at it as the flames reflected off its surface, seemingly mesmerized for a moment before he too took his drink, although unlike Jacob he only sipped at it at first.  
Jacob watched as he slowly drained his drink and got back to work on the jacket, leaving the men in a slightly less tense silence than before until it was broken by Jacob's question.

"Why did you do it?"

Only to be met with Maxwell taking the bottle and raising it to his lips instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING CHAPTER 4!! I'll be trying to do better about uploading! Love you all !!! <3<3<3


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